Il Souvient
by Jazz
Summary: Methos spends some time with his love (slash)


Il Souvient By WilAngel ****

Il Souvient

Music was blasting through the dojo as Methos entered. I wonder what's up? Macleod wouldn't be caught dead listening to that kind of music. He sauntered over to the doors, and looked in to see Rich standing in the middle of dojo floor, in an attack position. The moment he was seen and identified, however, Rich started to move. Probably just continuing the moves he'd been working on earlier. Methos took a seat to watch his lover. Rich's style was somewhat unique. After Macleod's Dark Quickening and Rich's head hunting days, Rich had added several new techniques to his fighting, ones Methos suspected that Macleod knew nothing about. He could pick out several different styles in what he was seeing, a little kickboxing here, a little karate there. Methos could tell that Rich used his feet and legs a lot more than he used to. It was a good thing to do, to use all weapons in your arsenal. Few people expected a blow with a sword to be followed with a well-executed kick these days. Rich wound his workout down, then walked over to get his towel, which incidentally was next to where Methos was sitting.

"Hey, Meth. I didn't know you were in town."

"Just dropped in to say hi. I've got a plane leaving tomorrow morning."

"Hmmm…" was all his lover said, before pulling him into a passionate kiss. They pulled apart when they felt another Immortal approaching. Rich raised his sword again, as Methos tried to appear to be part of the wall. When it turned out to be simply Macleod, however, Rich allowed the sword to drop again, although Methos noticed he didn't put it away. Showed how much he trusted his old teacher, he supposed.

"How's a beer sound, Adam?" Mischief twinkled deep in those beautiful eyes. Macleod had no idea that Rich knew who he was, much less that they were lovers. And Rich seemed to want to keep it that way. Not that Rich was ashamed of him, or anything, he just didn't want Macleod to know. When the two of them had met in New Orleans, they had gone all out. Methos still got shivers when he thought of that time.

"Yo, Adam, you still with me?" Rich waved a hand in front of his eyes.

"Not like Adam to decline beer…" came a comment from Macleod.

"Too true…"

"If you'd quit talking about me as if I'm not here, we can go get that beer you promised. Joe's?"

"No, I thought you might appreciate a new bar that I kinda ran over a few weeks ago." Rich grinned as they left the dojo. "I don't even know the name of the place, the sign was so faded, but it served great beer and the music rocked…"

"Alright, Brat, let's go see this new bar." They had reached Rich's motorcycle, and he climbed on, then looked back beseechingly at his lover. He knows how much I hate these things… But I never could turn him down when he makes puppy-dog eyes at me… With a long suffering sigh, Methos climbed onto the back of Rich's bike, twined his arms around his lover's waist, and held on tight as Rich took off. He knew that Rich didn't go nearly as fast as he usually did when he rode with him, with made him profoundly grateful. The ride passed in a blur, and in what seemed like seconds, they were at the bar. Methos chuckled. The Dancing Sword. I remember this place… The sign was faded, but Methos had been here ten years ago or so, and it looked like it hadn't changed at all. 

The two entered, and Rich immediately snagged two places at the bar for them. "Two drafts of whatever you got," he called to the bartender when he was close enough. The bartender just nodded before continuing to fill out various orders. The music in the place was loud, but not obnoxiously so. Rich was obviously enjoying it, and it was a joy to watch him, bouncing a foot along with the music with a huge grin on his face. He leaned over to Methos. "Great place, huh, Meth?" he whispered into his ear, loud enough to be hear over the music. Methos just nodded, and smiled as their beers arrived. 

"Set us up a tab," Rich told the bartender, who just nodded again before moving along on his way. The two leisurely drank their beers. Methos finished his first, of course. When both were done and he was about to motion to the bartender again, Rich grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet. "Come on, let's dance."

Methos tried not to let his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He only half succeeded. That Rich wanted to flaunt their relationship was nothing new, but he didn't usually do it anywhere near Seacouver, where there was a small chance that Macleod would find out about them. But there they were, on the dance floor of a Seacouver gay bar, grinding together in a parody of dancing. Not that Methos minded at all. He just pulled Rich closer, as they continued to 'dance'.

They danced and drank for hours, until Rich finally decided that they could leave. When Rich straddled the bike, Methos was about to ask if he was fit for driving, when he realized that Rich hadn't had anything to drink in over an hour. The rest would have already been taken care of by his Immortal metabolism, so there was no worries about impaired driving. Methos climbed onto the back of Rich's bike, and they were off again, this time heading to Rich's apartment.

The ride was quick, as they weren't too far from his Rich's apartment. The minute they were off the bike, Methos had Rich pinned to the side of the garage. Hey, could he help it if he was extremely turned on, and had been for several hours, as Rich teased him during what was laughingly called dancing?

"Upstairs, Meth. I have no desire to give my neighbors a show. " Methos reluctantly let his lover go, but followed him quickly up the stairs to his apartment. The moment they were in the door, Methos was on his again. He pinned Rich to the just closed and locked front door, and proceeded to kiss him senseless. Once he was satisfied that his lover was suitably dazed, he led him to the bedroom, using all his 5000+ years to not ravage his beautiful lover on the hard floor. 

Unfortunately, his lover didn't remain dazed for long, and he quickly got on the offensive. It wasn't unusual for the sex when he dropped in for short times to be explosive. As well, Rich tended to almost try to stake a claim on him. Not that he objected, he just wished he could get a little time, sometimes. But that wish always evaporated once his lover got his hands, and his mouth, onto his skin. Then all that matter was the glorious sensations that he was producing in him.

And those sensations were already starting. While Methos had been daydreaming, his sweater and tee shirt had been removed, and he was now being propelled backwards towards the bed. That look was in Rich's eyes again, and Methos shivered in anticipation. He fell back onto the bed, and he was quickly shucked of his pants, underwear and socks, and Rich was now leisurely tougueing his way up his leg. Methos let his head fall back, letting Rich do what he wanted. That talented mouth worked his way up to his throbbing erection but he just gave it a teasing lick, and blew a little cold air on it before moving on up his chest, licking and kissing and nibbling at whatever flesh was in his reach. Methos considered this to be slow torture, but ever so wonderful torture. Rich reached his mouth, and they exchanged a slow kiss. That's when he realized that Rich was still fully clothed.

"Rich, clothes, gotta go," he managed to strangle out. Rich gave a small smile, and rose to comply. He teasing took each piece of clothing off, Methos struggling not to groan at the erotic display. He lost the battle when he realized that Rich wasn't wearing any underwear, and only the thin denim had separated him and his lover while they had danced so closely together.

"Like what you see, old man?" he asked with an impish grin.

"Brat…" he managed to growl.

Rich grinned as he crawled onto the bed. He also looked like a hunting animal, about to pounce on his unsuspecting prey. Well, maybe the comparison wasn't that far off, considering Rich pounced on him a moment later. The only difference was that he knew exactly where Rich was. Rich's mouth and hands soon had him incoherent however, and sensations began to blur together into a true maelstrom of feelings. Thinking became impossible for the rest of the night.

*****

"Morning, old man," said an impish voice. "You'd better get up if you want to get your flight. It leaves in 90 minutes."

That woke him up in a hurry. He got out of bed and hurried into the shower, with his lover's gaze on him. Once the water started to pound down on his head, he tried to remember last night. The bar, returning to Rich's apartment, and then being driven out of his mind in pleasure. Methos knew it was pointless trying to remember more then that. He never did, for some reason. Although the look of hurt as he left or got ready to leave, despite all of Rich's attempts to hide it, always remained clearly in his mind. He hated hurting his lover, but it had to be this way. His shower complete, he toweled off, and got back into his clothes, his lover watching from the bed.

"Bye, Meth," he said quietly, his eyes shining with love and sadness. "See you soon?"

"Of course, Rich. Of course." He grabbed his coat and sword, took one last look at his lover, and then turned and walked out of the apartment, knowing if he looked back, he wouldn't be able to leave. And he had to leave. He had no choice.

----------------

Methos closed his journal with a sigh. Hard to believe that that had been over a century ago. Hard to believe that Rich had been lost to him for all that time. One day about two years after the account he'd just read, Rich had just… disappeared. At first he just thought Rich was pulling a vanishing act himself, in revenge for all the times he'd done it. But as months turned into years turned into decades, he realized that that wasn't the case at all, and that in all likelihood, Rich was long dead. A tear slowly crept it's way out of his eye. All he had left of Rich now were his memories, jogged along by his journal entries, and a dagger of Rich's that had been his favorite. When he found that, he knew Rich hadn't left voluntarily. He'd tried to find him, but he'd had no luck. If Rich was truly dead, he'd never be able to avenge him and have his lover's quickening inside him. And that just made things all the worse. However, Methos honored his love by continuing to survive, as he knew Rich would want. No matter how much he wanted to join the person he'd loved with all his being in final death.

****

FIN

Disclaimer: The characters and locations from Highlander:The Series don't belong to me, and they never will. 


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